Dark, formally experimental, reflective like broken glass on its way into the anonymous neck of a villain, beautiful in its contemplation of art and sexuality, strung with sentences of light and introspection and poetry throughout, light typographical play, a quick punch-like pace, and subversive in simply not giving a fuck.

Reminded me of old Henry Stamper’s severed arm and middle-finger hanging from the Stamper Family porch. NEVER GIVE AN INCH!!!

Powells, naturally, and elsewhere.